


Cages

by KittieHill



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Plug, BDSM, Caught, Cock Cages, Edging, Masturbation, Prompt Fill, Prostate Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 18:45:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2592293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittieHill/pseuds/KittieHill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was asked by RavenOceana to do a BDSM inspired Cock cage/Anal plug story. Although i have absolutely no experience or knowledge i came up with this and hope that it's somewhere along the lines of what she wanted</p><p>*also, you asked for a humbler but i had absolutely no idea what one was and even google could educate me... so i sort of missed that one out! Sorry*</p><p>Not Beta'd, Please request stories and i'll see what i can do! Also, any issues, hazards or mistakes are my own as i have explained, im a complete noob at this!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cages

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RavenOceana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenOceana/gifts).



Sherlock sulked and frowned against the back of the sofa; his whole body thrummed with frustration and anger at John’s words.

‘It’s only one weekend Sherlock’ John sighed

‘Yes John, so you keep saying. What happens if there is a disaster? Or a terrorist attack? Or a really interesting and horrific murder and you’re not here. I need my blogger John’ Sherlock spat back

John rubbed the tired spot on his forehead and forced himself to breathe deeply ‘If any of these things happen, get Mycroft to send a car. I’m only an hour away on the train’

Sherlock ignored him; tired of arguing and exhausted with the endless flow of _feelings_ flooding through his veins. He closed his eyes and attempted to relax as John pottered aimlessly around the flat picking up things and putting them into his overnight bag.

‘See you Monday Sherlock’ John said to the curled up detective.

##

Sherlock waited for a few minutes until he was sure that John had left before turning over and standing up in one fluid motion; he stepped over the small table beside the sofa and walked into his bedroom, his dressing gown billowing behind him like a cape.

He reached his wardrobe and opened the doors, pulling out the large plastic box of goodies he had stored so meticulously last time he used them. Leaving the box on his bed he began undressing until he sat naked on the expensive cotton sheets and trailed his fingers over the cool materials of his toys before grabbing the bottle of lube from the bedside table. He flicked open the lid easily and poured a drizzle of the viscous liquid over his fingers before taking his flaccid cock in hand, coaxing it to life with long and slow strokes. The tingles of arousal became more powerful and soon Sherlock was thrusting his hips to fuck into his fist; he normally would have finished quickly and efficiently, cleaning up and concentrating on other activities which were deemed more important than wanking like a teenager but tonight, he felt like stringing it out.

He grabbed his large anal plug and felt the cold plastic against his fingers; the purple toy was his favourite, it was large enough to fill him completely without making him feel over stretched or in pain. He remembered the last time he had used it, wearing it to dinner with Mycroft and smiling the entire time as he desperately tried to control his breathing and flushed face from his brother’s deductions. If Mycroft noticed, he didn’t say anything.

Sherlock stopped his stroking and picked up the lube, applying more liquid to his fingers he slowly began to open himself up, pressing a finger inside his tightness and finding his prostate quickly, caressing the nub of nerves until he sensations were too much and he pulled away, pressing another finger in and scissoring them he avoided his prostate and focussed on getting himself open for the plug. Eventually he had 3 fingers inside and pulled his fingers from his now loosened hole, spreading the lube over the plastic plug and standing it upright on the bedding carefully. He positioned himself so that he tip of the toy was pressed against his hole and slowly allowed gravity to help him down, further, further until half of the toy was inside. He groaned and stilled, allowing his body to adjust to the burning stretch, he stroked his semi-hard cock lazily, the pleasure taking away the edge of the stretch as he gently continued.

He whined when the base pressed in and his hole closed around the smaller size. His head fell forward in bliss as the plastic pressed against his prostate, stroking and caressing it with every movement, Sherlock rolled his hips and picked up the rhythm on his cock, his lubed hands making his skin slick and silky.

Sherlock wondered whether John did anything like this; he had never found anything particularly kinky in John’s bedroom, he had the usual condoms, lubricant, cock ring and a small vibrator but nothing special. Sherlock had checked and double checked as his curiosity over John’s sexual virility increased. John did get a lot of dates, seemed to have a lot of sex _4 women in the last 3 months_ but none of the relationships lasted… Sherlock wondered whether John was bad in bed or whether it was a character flaw which only showed itself when the women became intimate with the doctor. Sherlock had seen John’s penis of course, two men living together in small spaces meant that accidental voyeurism often happened. John climbing from the shower and his towel falling off, or John peeing whilst Sherlock ran into the bathroom to collect his experiment from the bathtub before John could shout… all innocent scenario’s but never the less, masturbatory content for Sherlock.

Sherlock reached the edge of his orgasm and held still; stroking the base tightly to stave off the impending climax until it ebbed away. His body screamed at the loss of sensation but Sherlock enjoyed the orgasm much more if he stretched it out, he had gone four days once without ejaculating, bringing himself to the edge before cooling down. He had only orgasmed because John had shouted at him for being ‘an insufferable prick’ to _Gordon? Gary? Greg?_

The detective moved positions, lying on his back and looking up at the ceiling of his room; the nicotine stains on his ceiling reminded him of how great it was to smoke in bed, inhaling glorious chemicals into his chest as he read or experimented. He wished he had a pack of cigarettes now but he knew that John had removed all traces, including the super-secret stash which was hidden inside the kitchen table leg.

His hand moved quickly over his cock; close to orgasm again and realising that he wouldn’t be able to hold it off this time. His fingers stroked the sensitive frenulum as he thrust into his fist, the toy inside him bumping the sensitive spot inside him and making colourful blooms explode behind his eyes. His hips became jerkier, more erratic as he bounced up and down, desperately chasing his release. He reached the peak and tumbled over the edge, crying out John’s name as he came over his fist and stomach, the first shot reaching as far as his throat as he milked his cock and prostate together until he was shaking and shuddering on the mattress, utterly spent and boneless.

He looked down at himself and sighed sadly; his pale skin glistened with his release and he absently ran his fingers through the rapidly cooling liquid as he attempted to calm his heartbeat to normal. Sherlock reached for the next of his toys, a plastic favourite of his. He reached for the tissues on his bedside table and dabbed himself clean before inserting his softened cock into the plastic cock cage he had had made especially for his measurements. He wiggled himself to ensure he was fully inside and snapped the padlock to lock the mechanism around his shaft.

Sherlock remembered back to his first attempt at a relationship whilst wearing the cock cage; He had gone to a gay club one night, he was bored and intrigued so slipped away from Mycroft and walked into the club, soon finding himself surrounded by muscled and oiled men, leather bound and hairy. His feminine looks and pointy features so unusual to the usual clientele that he was soon inundated with offers of drinks; he became attracted to one man, a tailor named Perry who had offered him a drink and sat discussing science, politics and religion with the man enjoying Sherlock’s slightly unusual social skills. The men had exchanged numbers and promised to meet up soon;

The next week Sherlock invited Perry to the flat he had recently taken out in Baker Street; he didn’t bother to tidy up, instead inviting the older man over immediately to go to bed. Sherlock hadn’t expected the reaction he received to the cock cage, he had deduced that Perry was a dominant in the bedroom and had experience in submissive relationships but when Perry had seen the contraption wrapped around Sherlock’s cock he had laughed and called Sherlock hurtful names and left the flat, slamming the door and sending Mrs Hudson in a rush up to the flat; thankfully Sherlock had wrapped his gown around his shoulders before the landlady reached his room.

‘Oh Sherlock dear, would you like a cup of tea?’ She asked worriedly, scurrying back downstairs when Sherlock shouted at her.

Sherlock didn’t think John would react that way; he thought that John would be more open minded, he was _three continents Watson_ after all, as well as a doctor. Sherlock groaned deeply and rubbed at his eyes; he wouldn’t disclose his teenage like obsession with his flatmate, John was certainly not gay and he didn’t want John to leave. He had found a strange peace and comfort with John living close by, a feeling he had never known until now… almost like contentment.

The thoughts of John were enough to make his cock twitch in interest again although it was now encased in the plastic device; Sherlock flicked the plastic, smiling at the satisfying click noise of his nail against the cage. He tightened the muscles of his arse and felt the tip of the toy press against his spot again, not as intense as previously but still enjoyable. Sherlock wondered if he would be able to cum again so soon and mentally shrugged _nothing else to do._

_###_

John reached the station and looked at the departure board for his train. He sighed and gripped the bridge of his nose as ‘Cancelled’ covered the entire outgoing side, he considered joining the queue for the replacement bus service but after thinking the dreadful journey over, he decided against it. Grabbing his bag and throwing it over his good shoulder he walked to his favourite greasy spoon café and sat down for something to eat wondering whether he should text Sherlock and ask if the lanky git wanted anything bringing home. Truth be told he was still angry at Sherlock’s lack of enthusiasm for John going away to the conference; John liked to keep up to date with new medical updates and the time spent away provided him with positive networking contacts which could often help during cases, whether Sherlock accepted it or not. John also realised that he needed time away from the detective; their relationship had always been close, he had killed a man on the first night he met for the stranger but recently something had changed between them. John had noticed Sherlock’s graceful movements more now than ever before, his deliciously long fingers would wrap around the neck of his violin and John’s cock would give a twitch at the view; John Watson needed time away to evaluate his feelings for his flatmate.

He sat for an hour; drinking tea, picking at his food and reading yesterday’s newspaper which had been left on the table adjacent before deciding to go home. The weather looked foul and he didn’t fancy getting soaked, as much as he hated to admit it, the cold and wet made his shoulder ache like an old man’s. He pulled his collar up and began the long walk back to Baker Street.

The door was locked as normal; he opened it and walked up the stairs. He was surprised at the lack of noise… of movement at all and he wondered whether Sherlock had left to annoy Lestrade or Molly. He walked into the living room and placed his bag onto the sofa before kicking off his shoes and padding in bare feet around the flat, looking for signs of Sherlock. He heard a strange keening moan and wondered whether Sherlock was hurt, he went for his gun at his side _of course it’s not there. You were going to a doctor’s conference in Surrey, why would you need a gun?_ His brain asked unhelpfully. John balled his fists; hoping that if somebody was attacking Sherlock then the element of surprise would help him win the scuffle. He slid around the Kitchen wall and silently crept to Sherlock’s door, opening it in one swift movement and freezing on the spot with a whispered ‘oh’

##

Sherlock sat up straight, his knees taking his weight on the bed as he circled his hips and wiggled sensually. The pleasure from his prostate was warming his lower stomach, coiling up his spine and flooding his brain with happy endorphins as his orgasm slowly built. Sherlock wasn’t expecting it to be as intense as his first orgasm and he wasn’t actually sure he could cum like this, he had only managed it a handful of times before.

His mind wandered over John’s physique; the sandy blonde hair which was slightly too long now due to John’s busy schedule at the practice and running around London with himself left him with no time for a haircut. His sparkling blue eyes dotted with a myriad of colours which seemed to change with John’s mood, the strong arms, broad chest marred slightly with the purple pink scar of his army wound. Sherlock loved that wound; he had only seen it twice, _once when he was showering, the second when he had a graze which required clearing_ Sherlock remembered. He loved the scar because it brought John into his life, the powerful, sweet and utterly frustrating army doctor who saved Sherlock more than John would ever know.

Sherlock shook the bad images away and replaced them with John’s stomach, the slight sag which once was flat and toned now slightly flabby due to takeaway’s and not as much exercise as John had one done, covered in dusty blonde hair and running down to the short and well groomed bush of blonde pubic hair. Sherlock imagined what John would look like naked and hard, his cock leaking into a puddle on Sherlock’s skin as John rubbed their cocks together in his big, strong, callused hands. Sherlock groaned deeply, aware that Mrs Hudson was only downstairs but unable to hold back his vocal moans of bliss.

He realised he was close to orgasm, the wave building from his toes in its intensity. Sherlock groaned and rocked his hips, feeling the pinch of his cock inside the plastic cage, desperate to harden, twitch and explode.

Sherlock made an extremely unmanly noise as he came; a high pitched sigh as his cock erupted from the plastic sheathe, dripping from the hole in the end. Sherlock jumped as the door flew open and John stood in the doorway, his hands clenched into fists as if to attack an unseen assailant. John looked straight into Sherlock’s eyes; their gazes meeting with horror, nervousness and shock as Sherlock continued to slowly trickle cum onto the bedding beneath him. John mumbled an ‘oh’ before grabbing the doorframe, watching in silence as Sherlock shuddered and fell forward.

‘Oh god, John I can explain’ Sherlock stammered, his heart beating wildly in his chest ‘Please don’t call me disgusting. I’m sorry’

John knitted his eyebrows together in confusion before opening his mouth, closing it and then opening it again ‘Why would I call you disgusting?’

 _In the grand scheme of things_ Sherlock thought, _this isn’t going too badly._

‘I… Because of this’ Sherlock blushed looking down at his plastic encased genitals

‘I should have knocked’ John said softly ‘I’m sorry’

‘You’re supposed to be in Surrey’ Sherlock mumbled, suddenly hyperaware of his nakedness

‘Cancelled. Afraid I’ll be here all weekend’ John smiled ‘I think that’s more than enough time for you to explain what that thing is and how I can help you cum like that again’

Sherlock gasped and his heart fluttered happily as John walked into the bedroom and closed the door with the back of his foot, reaching the bed and pulling Sherlock into a scorching kiss.


End file.
